


Roller Coaster Kiss

by Skullnar



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Roller Coaster, brooding keith, dorky lance, festival au, lance scared of scary rides, roller coaster kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 11:44:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7843645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skullnar/pseuds/Skullnar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith wishes nothing more than to make friends. but no matter how much he tries, he always fails. When Lance invites him to the festival and he accepts it, he knows he will ruin it all. Or perhaps he won’t, for with Lance the unpredictable what to predict. (First Kiss. Comforting. Bickering. Lots of blushing. Festival Au.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roller Coaster Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I have [Tumblr](https://skullnar.tumblr.com/) where I post lots of klance and voltron stuff

The distant blaring noises of the festivities smother the soothing whistle of the night. Keith sighs to himself. He lays back on the humid grass, arms enveloping the back of his head as he allows his eyes to close. 

All Keith wants this night is to relax. He didn't plan to come to the festival, preferring much more the quiet of his own room. Although, it isn’t like that as often as he wishes; having Lance as his roommate makes certain to never allow silence to settle permanently.

With an irritated groan, Keith reopens his eyes, blurriness swinging into his view for a second before vanishing. His gaze then locks onto the sky above him, his anger softening at the gems of light spilling from the darkened ciel.

Keith has to admit he wasn’t that adamant on resisting lance’s invitation. He can’t quite comprehend what made him accept the invitation, seeing as he isn’t one to enjoy the presence of too many people, especially crowds in events such as this. But despite his denial, Keith clearly remembers the feeling of warmth manifesting in him when Lace asked him to go along.

Keith questioned lance as to why he would want him along, and the warmth withing Keith only increased as lance grinned, shrugging and telling him that’s what friends do. He wasn’t even capable of thinking when he nodded and a smile broke on his own face.

Now, however, Keith thinks he regrets it. There isn’t much for him to do; the festivities seem far too obnoxious, and he has already lost his friend in the bustling sea of people. it is what led him to retreat away from the party in the first place.

Truth be told, Keith does wish to party, dance, sing and laugh with his friends, but he can’t bring himself to do it. No matter how much he wants to simply go out there and have a good time, He always holds himself back, anxiety and fear - the dread of rejection - nagging at him. 

He hates it.

Lance, on the other hand, can do it all so easily. Keith envies that. He wants to be like Lance in that sense, capable of making new friends to share his secrets and burdens. The only person he has is Shiro, who is currently away due to his work as a policeman.

“Pathetic,” Keith murmurs lowly, throwing an arm over his face. It’s sad just how lost and anti-social he is. But he can’t change it, and he hates himself for it.

“Yeah, it is pretty pathetic,” Keith hears a voice say and he springs to his feet with a start.

“Lance?” He cries, blinking twice and thrice to make sure he ISN'T hallucinating. Imagining his friends helping him out of loneliness. Keith snorts mentally.

“Yeah, that's my name,” Lance says, bringing a cone of ice cream to his mouth.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Keith questions, ignoring the flutter of his heart at the thought of Lance worrying for him.

Lance scoffs. “Didn’t wanna let a body rot out here.” 

“Rot?” Keith’s eyebrow twitch. “I wasn’t rotting, asshole; I was relaxing.”

“Yeah, sure,” Lance mocks with a roll of his shoulders. “You were acting like the perfect angsty teenager, dude. For a sec I though you were crying.”

Keith opens his mouth to retort, but freezes at the implication of Lance’s words. “Thought?” Keith echoes. “You were watching?”

“Yeah, Like I wanna watch you brood,” Lance snorts sarcastically, then points over his shoulder with another hand, also holding an ice cream cone. “The path is pretty much straight after you leave the party. I could see ya from miles. I bet the mushy couples do too.”

Keith flushes as that, embarrassed as he examines his surroundings. 

“Anyways,” Lance begins, taking a couple steps closer to Keith. “Here, have this ice cream. I heard somewhere it’s the best way to cure sadness.”

Surprised, Keith takes the offer, ignoring Lance’s comment. He nods gratefully. He isn’t sure anymore the redness of his ears are results of embarrassment as he tells himself. 

“So, Let’s go,” Lance says, turning back towards the festival.

“Wait, what?” Keith blinks dumbly.

“Ya heard me,” Lance cranes his head back. “Let’s go.”

“Why?” Keith blurts, and stutters as he realizes his mistake. He coughs into his fist and crosses his arms, scoffing. “Uh, I mean, why should I go with you?”

Lance’s eyebrow arch, but he says doesn’t comment if he noticed Keith’s strange behavior.

“Cuz we’re friend,” He tells Keith. “Although, you are an asshole, still.”

“Thanks,” Keith mutters sarcastically but doesn’t dwell on the blush on his cheeks.

“By the way,” Lance drawls, arms behind his shoulder now that he has finished his ice cream. “Don't be too depressing, mullet; I got ladies’ heart to capture, and I don't want them scared away by your emo vibes.”

“Emo vibes?” Keith asks, eyebrows creased in incredulousness.

“Nevermind,” Lance mutters after a minute of blank staring, then sighs and stops in front of Keith.

“What are you doing?” 

Lance ignores Keith’s question, placing his fists on his hips. “Do you even know how to have fun?”

"Course I do,” Keith huffs, indignant at the accusation.

“Yeah,” Lance concludes, a shaking his head with pity. “You don't.”

The idea of strangling Lance seems appealing.

“So,” Lance claps his hand together, a boastful curve of his lips. “I, the god of fun and good times, will teach you how!”

“No thanks,” Keith shoots him down immediately.

“You don't get a choice,” Lance smirks. “Cuz if you don't, Shiro will get mad.”

“Why would Shiro care?”

“Cuz he wants to see Keith-y boy have fun,” Lance taunts. “And the only one capable of teaching a hopeless brood like you is me.”

“What about pidge and hunk?” Keith suggests, eyebrows lifted.

“Hunk is busy with Shay right now,’ Lance declares with a triumphant grin. “Nad Pidge isn’t that much better.”

“I still refuse,” Keith says, and Lance moans in irritation.

“Alright, fine,” Lance groans. “How about this - I’ll show you what normal people do in festivals like this and you’ll see if you like it. Is that good enough?”

Keith brings a finger to his chin, pleased at the annoyance clear on Lance’s face. Keith stalls a bit with his pondering, enjoying every second that Lance glances yearningly at the stands and games.

“Okay,” Keith says. “I’ll do it. But if I don't like it, we stop.”

“Sure thing, master,” Lance taunts. "Anything else?”

Ignoring the snark, Keith observes his surroundings.

“Where are we going first, then?” He asks, keeping himself rooted on his spot. It’s rather hard not to fidget in the middle of so many. Briefly, he wonders if anyone heard his conversation with Lance.

“Depends," Lance shrugs. “I guess you get to choose the first.”

“Uh,” Keith looks around, but nothing appeals to him. He sees fire dancer on the far side of his right, the twirling flames swirling in motion as they spin, appearing as a single thread of flames as the men maneuver it to flow around their bodies. There is also a stand for a show, a couple standing upon it as they sing, their voice enthralling as it envelops the whole place.

None of it interests Keith.

None of them interest Keith, apart from one.

“That one,” Keith points at an old, decayed, wood structured house ahead. The surface of the material of the building is humid, reflecting the dazzling glow of other nearby attractions. Above the arching entrance, there is a sign. On it written, “Haunted House.” With red paint, resembling blood.

“The haunted House?” Keith swears he sees Lance pale.

“Yeah, The Haunted House,” Keith nods, proud to have found something at least a tad interesting.

“Figured you’d pick something creepy, mullet,” Lance groans. By now It’s clear Lance is against the idea, but he strides towards it along Keith nonetheless, likely for he promised.

“What?”Keith smirks. “Ya scared?”

“Course not!” Lance puffs his chest, harumphing indignantly. “If anyone’s scared it’s you.”

Keith purses his lips. “I was the one who suggested it, lance.”

“Yeah, well…” Lance halts mid-sentence, having run out of comebacks. He desists. “Oh, whatever! Let’s just go.”

Wordlessly yet pleased with himself, Keith allows Lance to step within first, and he internally grins as he sees there is no line obstructing their turn. Lance, however, seems less than content with the situation, if the sheen line of sweat on his forehead is a sign of anything.

Hearing the worker’s voice telling them to enter, Keith eagerly hops onto the seat. The place seems promising enough, and he can’t help but anticipate the fun - or Lance’s fright. He sets the security bar in front of him, watching as a fidgeting Lance does the same. 

"Ya ready?” He teases, elbowing Lance in the ribs.

“More than ever,” Lance tries to say arrogantly, but the waver in his voice gives him away.

The moment the rides begins, Lance stiffens, his knuckles white from the intense grip on the bar. Keith swears he hears Lance curse something in another language.

The vehicle they sit upon slows down to an excruciating pace, anticipation gathering in Keith as he begins to see the descent ahead. He has to fight back a grin to his face when the carriage halts entirely.

Then it everything darkens and speeds.

The world around them dissolve into a blur of tenebrous lights and greens and reds, sounds of the night and screams of anguish filling the air as they both spin on the rails. Unable to contain himself, Keith laughs. 

Lance screams.

It was clear Lance was hiding his nervousness, but the moment they reached a certain speed and various bodies and marionettes were dropped from the ceiling, he couldn’t help himself. Keith almost pities Lance when the boy buries his face in hands, but he soon forgets the other as the ride speeds up to even more velocity.

“Damn it!” Keith hears Lance curse, and he turns, a snark ready at his lips. But the words die before they leave his mouth when he sees Lance. 

The boy is trembling to the very bone, diverting his gaze from their path and towards the wall aside. Keith can’t tell if he s hiding his face from the camera or Keith. What he does know, though, is that he should do something. What, he doesn’t know.

“Hey, Lance,” He tries, but his voice is instantly snatched by the racing winds. Groaning in frustration, Keith slips his hand from beneath the bar, placing it atop of Lance’s shoulder, and he feels the other freeze under his touch.

“Lance,” He calls louder, grip firm. “Can you hear me?”

After an unresponsive moment, Lance nods. “Yeah,” He mumbles, and Keith can only tell what he says for he is leaning forth.

“What’s wrong?” He asks and waits patiently for an answer.

When he receives none, he loosens his touch in understanding, his features softening. “S’alright,” He shouts. “You don't have to say it.”

Suddenly, Lance turns to him, His expression miserable yet thankful. Somehow, in mid of the indistinctive landscape and deafening noises of the ride, Lance is all Keith can see.

“Thanks, Keith,” He whispers and Keith doesn’t hear it, but he can tell that is what Lance says.

The smile that manifests on Keith’s lips is mirrored by lance’s.

Keith doesn’t know what he is doing when he leans in towards lance, his breath hitching in the gale. Lance, too, is leaning forward. Soon, they are only a few centimeters away, their hands intertwined in the middle of their seat. No words are exchanged, both fully aware of every jerk of the ride.

Suddenly, Keith doesn’t remember where they are, only that Lance’s lips are on his.

Keith is kissing Lance. Lance is kissing Keith.

Keith can’t tell which is happening. 

They both struggle against the tremor of the ride, their hands and legs grounding aginst their seats in an attempt to steady themselves. Their lips are together for only the fraction of a second before they break apart, a shake of their ride sending them to apart.

Despite the movement, they don't break eye contact, and they only return to reality when it all ends, and crimson claim both of their cheeks and ears.

No words are exchanged until they reach the photo station.

“So…” Lance begins awkwardly, and Keith sighs at his behavior, a hand coming to rub his face in exhaustion.

“Go get the pic and I’ll wait outside.”

Lance nods and does as commanded, watching Keith’s figure disappear out the doorway, out into the merry air of autumn festivals.

As soon as he is out, Keith frowns, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall of the photo station. He moans miserably and brings his hands to his face. Why did he have to go and ruin all his chances to make friends?

It was all going well for him. But he has to ruin it all. That’s why he can’t have friends; He always ruins his chances in one way or another. And after that, he loses contact again. The only person who’s stayed with him for longer than a year is Shiro, and he’s certain he’ll end up ruining it at some point.

Maybe he should just give up.

“Keith?”

The boy in question looks up to the source of the voice, riding his face of emotions.

“Are you brooding again?” Lance asks knowingly, whistling carelessly.

Puzzled by the other boy’s seemingly nonchachelent behavior, Keith blinks.

“By the way,” Lance holds up a plastic sac. “I got the pic. Ya should look at it. I like it, personally.”

Nodding, Keith takes the sac from Lance’s hand. As he opens it, he forces his gaze on what his hands do, but his mind is far from the photo, instead much more on avoiding eye contact. That is, until he sees the photo itself.

It’s the moment their lips touched.

“L-lance, this,” Keith stutters, his cheeks flushing as he turns widened eyes on Lance.

“Yup,” Lance grins, his own cheeks tinged red. “I liked it.”

“I…”

Keith pauses.

He turns back to the picture of them, their eyes closed serenely and lips together. They look perfect in it, as though they weren’t on a roller coaster. With a quick glance from the corner of his eyes, Keith sees the felicity clear on Lance’s face, and the same tingling warmth he had felt when Lance invited him to the festival returns, a thousand times stronger.

Maybe, now that Keith thought about it, he hadn’t ruined his chances. In fact, he might have just opened the path to something more.

“Yeah, I like it too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have [Tumblr](https://skullnar.tumblr.com/) where I post lots of klance and voltron stuff


End file.
